Desire Chases Optimism
by Ari Vela
Summary: O'Connell holds Evelyn in his hands. There is some kind of redemption that happens when her eyes open and she speaks again. Set during TM1. Follows the script with some inbetweens. Short chapter 2. More coming soon.
1. Shots And Scotch

_Evelyn..._

She heard her name. Surely that meant she was alive...

_Evelyn._

She could feel her senses slowly crawling back to her. They were slightly injured; the backfire from the gunshot knocked them as far way from consciousness as possible. Evelyn opened her eyes to find O'Connell standing over her, a foreign concern traced into his brow. She felt his hands, one braced her arm and the other slid under her neck. Together, they pulled her up off the ground until she was standing. Her head was positively erupting with dizziness and various other sensations. He was just so strong...

"Hey... you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She responded, instinctually.

"You sure?" O'Connell questioned again, his concern was almost unsettling.

"Yes... thank you."

His voice was empty of the harshness she had expected. There was no scold for not listening, for running into the line of fire even after O'Connell had told her to stay put. No, his voice was soft. There was a sincere concern laced around his simple words. She felt his arms bracing her, keeping her balance by ushering her weight forward into his hold. His eyes surveyed her, a slight hint of fading panic left in his eyes as he lifted her head and looked her over. Then he touched her cheek, but only for a brief second. And the concern in his eyes suddenly replaced itself with relief, accompanied with a slight sigh. And then Evelyn understood.

"See! That proves it!"

Rick broke his gaze to look over his shoulder, trying to find the culprit of the intrusion. He saw Daniels standing next to Henderson, eyes wide and vision chasing the Med Jai that just trailed off across the sand and disappeared from sight.

"Old Seti's fortune has gotta be under that sand!" Daniels exclaimed.

"For them to protect it like this, you know there's gotta be treasure down there." Henderson added, his demeanor more calm than Daniels, but his greed matching perfectly.

"No," O'Connell interrupted calmly, "These men are a desert people. They value water, not gold."

Evelyn stared off after the robed men as well, knowing O'Connell was right. She thought for a moment what else could be there that they were trying to protect. She looked at O'Connell, his gaze still fixed on the horizon, his hands still holding her close to him. She had a hard time fathoming how his hands could be so gentle after killing so many people. This tenderness he showed was almost alarming. She felt like she had just discovered something lost in his being, something he had not felt in a long time. She wanted to stay in that moment. For him to hold her a little closer and to understand these sensations rising in her chest and dancing around her fingertips. These feelings took hold of her heart and choked it, making it beat so fast she thought its functions would surely fail and it would drop to her stomach.

"What do you say... just at night, we uh, combine forces?" Burns suggested, trying to sound casual. O'Connell just gave him an unfathomable look. Evelyn and O'Connell broke apart and began walking away from the American's camp and back to there own. Evelyn cradled her arms, trying to protect herself against the dropping temperatures of night in the desert. O'Connell noticed that she was cold and had the impulse to pull her into his chest and hold her again. But he thought better of it, he might have already stepped over the line just a moment ago.

It was difficult to try and explain the exact... feeling that O'Connell had experienced when he had seen Evelyn laying on the ground. O'Connell wasn't the type of man to panic. He faced a situation head on. And when he couldn't find a solution, he ran. Hard and fast with the concentration of a bull on a Spanish matador's cape. But for a brief moment, panic is what had planted itself in his eyes. She was just so lifeless for a moment, her face empty of that fire that had burned him a few times. He had thought for a moment that she might have been dead. And for some reason, that thought frightened him. He could feel the dread slowly crawling up his spine once more, making him wish to hold her again to experience the relief that had come when seeing her open her eyes…

"O'Connell?"

"Huh?" Rick shook his head, his attention brought back to the fact that he and Evelyn were alone again.

"Where's Jonathan?" Evelyn asked, her eyes scanning their camp.

"Uh… I'm not…" Rick's foot hit something rather soft lying on the ground. He and Evelyn looked down to see Jonathan's frail, motionless body lying next to the fire. Evelyn's eyes widened as she gripped O'Connell's side as she moved closer to him, a gasp escaping her mouth. O'Connell, feeling Evelyn's hands tugging on the back of his shirt, redirected his attention to Jonathan's lifeless form. He nudged his body with his foot and it emitted the most painful, raspy snore. Evelyn yelped as Jonathan turned over, mumbling. He drooled onto the sand and snuggled with the Scotch bottle he had found earlier in the warden's satchel.

"Oh, for the love of God!" Evelyn sighed loudly, parting from O'Connell and rummaging around for a blanket.

"Does he always sleep like that?" O'Connell asked, casting a weird glance at Jonathan's face, which held a stupidly pleasant look.

"When he drinks… yes, the cheeky little git…" Evelyn mumbled under her breath as she tossed a blanket over Jonathan. O'Connell tried to conceal his amusement. Evelyn grabbed another blanket, wrapped herself in it and sat beside the fire, poking it with a stick. O'Connell grabbed the warden's satchel and retrieved a second Scotch bottle. He popped the cork and took a swig as he sat next to Evelyn. He sat the bottle down and picked up his rifle and began cleaning the barrel. Evelyn eyed the gun, then surveyed his face, and then the gun again. She returned her concentration to the fire again, smiling to herself that she normally wouldn't allow a man to sit so close to her, especially with a weapon. He took such care of those things, making sure every little part was cleaned and put back where it belonged. She supposed because it was important to him, those weapons guarded his life as well as hers and Jonathan's. She made a small connection between herself and the guns he carried, he seemed to go out of his way to take care of her as well. Her heart suddenly lurched, prompting her to breath slightly deeper.

Evelyn was startled when O'Connell held the bottle in front of her face, offering her a swig. Reaching her hand out of the blanket, she took the bottle and pressed it to her lips. She felt the cold liquid flow over her tongue and slosh down her throat, leaving a slight burning in her mouth. She made a face as she swallowed.

"Ugh," she gulped as she handed the bottle back to O'Connell. He chuckled as he took another sip before returning to his gun.

"I don't see how you drink that stuff so freely…" Evelyn coughed out.

"It's an 'acquired taste'," he joked, "plus the result is more fun than the taste, to be honest."

"Ah…" she nodded and began reviving the fire again with the stick. Putting the stick down, she brought the blanket back around her and burrowed into it, shivering and attempting to keep herself warm. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at her. Without looking at him, she held out her hand. He laughed slightly under his breath and handed her the bottle. She took another swig while making a face. She shivered and handed him the bottle back.

O'Connell took a long sip and set it and the gun aside.

"I can't believe I shot a man." Evelyn said, as if she had just realized what she had done. Her voice was blank but her eyes were wide and threatening to physically show the emotion she was trying to conceal behind them. O'Connell surveyed her, concern weighing on his chest.

"You were just protecting yourself…"

Evelyn scoffed, her eyes watering slightly. She yawned and wiped her eyes. He offered her the bottle again. She was tempted to say no, but she gave in and took another sip. It was starting not to taste so bad. Rick took the bottle and took a gulp or two and picked up another rifle and began trifling with it.

"Why did you join the legion, O'Connell?" Evelyn asked suddenly. O'Connell looked a bit startled by the question. He shrugged.

"It just seemed like it was… what I was supposed to do, I guess…" He said, unsure of where she was going with this.

"Fighting for France?"

"No… killing people."

"Oh…" Evelyn raised a weary eyebrow. "But you don't seem, if you don't mind me saying, like someone who would kill for killings sake…"

"I dunno. .." he shrugged.

"You're just too good, O'Connell." she yawned.

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Um…" she said in mid-yawn. He remained silent, looking at her curiously.

"Well… you're just so… I dunno. You shoot a gun well." Evelyn blurted, blushing slightly.

"Ah." He nodded, somewhat disappointed at the answer.

"And you've kept us alive. You're a good man, O'Connell." she said simply, her eyes fixed on the fire. O'Connell looked up at her, then back at the gun in his hands. He smiled slightly, Evelyn's defenses were down. She had them up ever since that night on the Nile when she'd asked him why he had kissed her. He looked at her again, taking in her small form wrapped in the blanket, her green eyes still fixed on the fire. Those eyes were so probing, the most tempting part about her. He wanted her to look at him again.

"What made you want to find Hamunaptra?" He asked as soon as the thought entered his head.

"Hmm?" She broke her stare with the fire and looked at him.

"What made you want to come here?" He asked again. Evelyn laughed slightly.

"Books."

"Hmm?"

"History, Mr. O'Connell. I know almost everything there is to know about Ancient Egypt. The only thing left is to explore it. Written word can't describe everything." Evelyn said as she brought her eyes back to the fire.

"Ah..." Rick declared, not sure he understood. Evelyn looked at her brother sleeping and chuckled slightly. She had almost forgotten how badly he snored. She heard the liquid in the bottle slosh against the glass. She looked over at O'Connell and saw him taking a couple gulps before parting the bottle from his lips and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. She glanced at his hand resting around the neck of the bottle, and the other placed on his knee. Then she imagined them holding her again, then sliding down her back... then... her thoughts hit a proverbial brick wall. She refused to think the thoughts that were forcing her to examine O'Connell a little more closely when he wasn't looking.

"O'Connell..." Evelyn said, forcing herself to stare at the fire again.

"Yeah?"

"Mind handing over the bottle again?"

Evelyn had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.


	2. Throw A Punch, Fall in Love

Being in O'Connell's arms produced some strange feelings in the bottom of Evelyn's heart and in the pit of her stomach. It was almost as if O'Connell's embrace was a forbidden domain. There was something frighteningly satisfying about crossing the first boundary that she had created in her own mind.

The Scotch, on the other hand, was something she felt free to embrace, and without limit. She had consumed at least a quarter of the bottle. O'Connell had the same, or possibly more. But Evelyn was too tipsy to realize that he still seemed rather sober. He was attempting to teach her how to throw a right hook. He held up his hands for her to hit so she could practice what he showed her.

"Ok. Right here. Come on. Like you mean it."

"Like I mean it... mmm..." Evelyn slurred. She clumsily threw her left arm, attempting to complete a right hook, with suprising force. So much so that after she threw the punch, her body followed and she spun. O'Connell's caught her as she laughed.

"Okay, I think it's time for another drink." He said as he sat her close to the fire, next to her unconscious brother, and kneeled beside her.

"Unlike my brother, _sir_, I know when to say... no." Evelyn said with as much dignity she could muster as she pried the bottle from her brother's sleeping arms and took another sip.

"And unlike your brother, _miss_, you... I just don't get." O'Connell said as he surveyed her. Evelyn looked at him over the bottle and smiled as she pulled the bottle away from her lips.

"Ah. I know. What is a place like me doing in a girl like this, right?"

"Yeah, something like that." O'Connell chuckled.

"Well, you see, Egypt is in my blood." Evelyn said as she fumbled with the chain around her neck before pulling out the locket that was tucked under the collar of her dress. She opened it and leaned close to O'Connell, showing him a picture of her deceased mother and father. She placed the locket in his hands as he studied it, his demeanor calm.

"My father was a... very famous explorer. And he loved Egypt so much that he married my mother, who was an Egyptian and quite an adventurer herself." Evelyn said softly, smiling up at O'Connell as he surveyed the pictures in the locket.

"Okay. I get your father and I get your mother... and... I get him." O'Connell pointed at Jonathan, who snored at the perfect moment. O'Connell, suddenly aware of how close Evelyn was to him, let the locket fall back against her chest, looked at her curiously, and said, "But what are you doing here?"

Evelyn let out an indignant grunt and gave him the angriest look she could summon. O'Connell, however, felt an unfamiliar thought prickling at the back of his brain. He tried not to smile.

"Look. I may not be an explorer, or an adventurere, or a treasure seeker... or a gun fighter, _Mister _O'Connell, but I am _proud_ of what I am!" Evelyn staggered to her feet as she began her speech and almost stumbled.

"And... what is that?"

"I..." Evelyn looked confused for a moment before holding her head high and proclaiming, "am a librarian!"

Rick looked up at her and smiled incredulously, not sure if he could believe what he was seeing. Evelyn suddenly dropped to her knees and looked him directly in the eye. O'Connell looked startled, his eyes wide as he returned her stare.

"And I am going to kiss you, Mister O'Connell." Evelyn said plainly.

"You can call me Rick..." O'Connell gulped.

"Oh." Evelyn sighed and smiled. "R-rick."

Evelyn closed her eyes and leaned into O'Connell. He leaned in as well, his hand softly grasping her arm to keep her balance. He leaned in more, their lips so close he could feel her breathing. He opened his mouth slightly before Evelyn's face dropped all signs of awareness and she slumped into his lap. O'Connell looked down at her, disappointment etched into his face. He pulled a blanket around her and let her sleep without moving her.

The next morning, O'Connell awoke to hear Evelyn groaning painfully. She was still lying on top of his legs, where she had passed out the night before. He sat up and realized that she was awake. She sat up with his help, holding her head in her hands.

"My head." She said painfully.

"No more Scotch for you."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Plus if there is anymore, Jonathan will drink it. I feel... really... horrible."

O'Connell reached for a canteen and handed it to her.

"Drink water. I'd tell you to eat, but I dunno if you want to eat rat on a stick."

"It tasted better than Jonathan's cooking."

"I heard that!" Jonathan said sleepily as he got up. He opened his eyes and saw O'Connell and Evelyn sitting very close together, Evelyn's legs were splayed out. "What happened here?"

"Threw punches. Too much Scotch. I don't remember anything else." Rick looked at Evelyn, a slightly hurt look flashing in his eyes before he saw Jonathan looking at him suspiciously.

"Don't even." O'Connell said. Jonathan shrugged.

"Alright. Let's go." Jonathan tracked off across the sand, putting on his hat and waving sleepily at the Americans. O'Connell watched him before looking at Evelyn who was still rubbing her head, attempting to get up. He got up quickly, anticipating that dizzy feeling that soon followed, and then stood in front of Evelyn and held his hands toward her. She looked up very graciously.

"Oh, thank you." She said as she grabbed both hands. He pulled her up to her feet and she began to stumble forward until O'Connell grabbed her hips to steady her. She gripped his shoulders and fell against his chest. She looked up at him, her breath trapped in her throat.

"No problem..." he said, a small smile dancing around the corners of his mouth. He pushed her forward, hands around her waist, so that she should regain her own balance. Then he looked up at her, smiled one more time, and then began to follow Jonathan. Evelyn's eyes were wide as the stayed focused on him as he walked away. She finally let a deep breath go before grabbing her digger kit and following suit.


End file.
